


now recording

by yehetno



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: (first love?), I can tell you that much, It's not fluff, M/M, don't look at me, i briefly discuss grief, i don't know what genre i would call this, it's not /really/ angst, they're in high school for most of this, wallflower!eunwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7633897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehetno/pseuds/yehetno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dongmin puts a camera between himself and the world, but Bin is the first to breach that barrier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. coping

**Author's Note:**

> look away. i am betraying my sanwoo and moonrock feels and it's hideous. in other news, **binwoo**. astro released [ this](https://youtu.be/zKj8fL8rDWw) and holy mother of god if there was anything that could ever cause binwoo feelings to flare. there's a moment where eunwoo zooms on bin's face, and whoop de fricking doo, here we are.
> 
> most of this is centered on moments in which eunwoo is recording bin for one reason or another.
> 
> istg i tried to edit, but no matter how hard i try, typos slip through.

Dongmin is nine when he first experiences the death of a loved one.  It's the first time that his parents fully explain death to him, the first time he has to let the impact of it sink in.  It affects him profoundly; his mother quietly explains that his grandfather has moved on from this life.  It happens when people get old enough; they have had enough experiences, filled their hearts with enough happy memories that they can rest peacefully.

Dongmin cries.

His mother tells him that it's natural.  Crying starts the path to healing.  Depression is one of the stages of grief, and she insists that he should just let himself feel it.  Let the sadness wash over him in waves until he doesn't even notice the sand moving at his feet.  He cries until his eyes are swollen shut and snot has clogged his airways; he cries so hard that his throat hurts the next day.  He tries wrapping his head around the idea that he can never, will never, speak to his grandfather again.  He wishes that he could remember all of their lasts together in perfect detail instead of the blurry moments that hold mere vestiges of the emotions that he felt.

He grapples with the idea of an afterlife.  He grapples with the idea of there not being an afterlife.  He doesn't know which scares him more, which offers him more comfort in his time of grief.

He has moments of selfishness; what will happen to him when he dies?  What moments will he leave behind in the minds of others?  Will he be reunited with his loved ones in some glorious after-life like the preacher tells him at church, or will he be like the filament of a lightbulb, shining brightly for a while then dying with no hope of return?  His grandfather's death introduces Dongmin to concept of his own mortality.  It's terrifying, horrific, traumatizing.

Suddenly, every breath, every second, every heartbeat, and every word matters to Dongmin in a way that it never has before.

Living through the loss of his grandfather reshapes his personality.  Death and dying consume a significant portion of his thoughts; Dongmin becomes withdrawn.  No one likes to hang out with the kid who wants to talk about death and mortality.

Dongmin wonders what kind of person he might have been if his grandfather had died a later point in his life.  The more terrifying thought asks if he would even be different at all.

 

//

 

For Dongmin's seventeenth birthday, his parents give him a camcorder.  A compact, white, little thing capable of documenting every moment that Dongmin might want to preserve in perfect clarity.  The device has a cable that can connect to a computer so that Dongmin can save every video file onto his laptop and use the footage however he might please.

At first, he doesn't know what to do with it.  He has a difficult time figuring out what would be worth filming.  What part of his life should be documented and immortalized on digital tape?

He fiddles with the device, twisting the screen, snapping it closed only to pull it back open.  His fingers run over the buttons, explore every possible option on the menu.  He memorizes the camcorder, inside and out, software and hardware.  It fascinates him, even strikes him as an odd gift from his parents.  He has never spoken to them about his fixation on his relationship to death and the way that it has spurred a need to remember everything with striking clarity.  The way that it makes him want to leave a footprint behind for everyone to see.  To live a life without wasting it on inconsequential things.

 

//

 

Dongmin brings his camcorder to school.  He tells himself that he wants to document the place where he has devoted so much time, where he is part of the way through trading four years of life for a diploma that stands for doing the bare minimum.  During lunch, he finds himself sitting in the music room, recording fellow students who play a variant of basketball two stories below.

Initially, he doesn't know what compels him to record something so tangential to his existence.  When he looks back at this moment in the future, what will he decipher from it?  The faces in the video are a blur of pixels, chasing around an orange ball.  The audio will only be of Dongmin's quiet breathing; the microphone on the camcorder isn't powerful enough to pick up the faint laughter through the glass of the windows.

Dongmin looks at the screen of his camcorder and notices that one of the figures on the court has stopped moving.  The boy stares in Dongmin's direction with a hand on one hip and the basketball ball held against the other.  He lifts his eyes away from the screen to see that the boy is looking at him.

Dongmin stares back, holding the camcorder steady and watching as one of the boy's friends pushes his back, laughing out a question.  He cannot hear the boy's response, but he can tell that he looks back at Dongmin before resuming the game.  Dongmin records the rest of the game until the bell rings, indicating the end of lunch hour.

He returns to his classroom, sliding his camcorder into his desk, wondering who bothered to look back at him.  The crowd from outside shuffles past his classroom, and Dongmin gets a look at the boy that noticed him.  

At this distance, he recognizes the figure as Moon Bin.  How odd.  Moon Bin is as close to school royalty as a person can get.  The boy has the right combination of looks, personality, and charm to make every knee in ten meter radius go weak.  He's almost an alternative theory to what Dongmin could have been.  If Dongmin spoke more, smiled more, and looked people in the eye, it's conceivable that he might be at Bin's level.  However, he does none of those things.  He's the kind of pretty that scares people away; something about Dongmin puts people off.

Dongmin looks at his open notebook, examines the clean margins and neatly scrawled notes detailing how Japan came to rule Korea from the early twentieth century until the end of the Second World War.  There aren't even smudges and erasure marks in his notes; Dongmin frowns at his robotic behavior.  He doesn't really seem like a high schooler, not with the degree of precision and focus.  Normal kids doodle or get districted by the cute kid that smiled at them the other day.

He scribbles five words in the margin of his notebook.  He doesn't quite understand his impulse to record it, but he writes it anyhow: _Moon Bin saw me today_.

 

//

 

Dongmin frequently finds himself pointing his camcorder at Moon Bin.

This is probably what will be remembered of him when he dies.  His parents will rifle through his things with a heavy heart and lament about how much Dongmin loved his camera.  They'll watch videos, and all that they'll know is that Dongmin devoted much of his camcorder's memory to immortalizing Moon Bin eating with his friends or playing all sorts of ball games.

Something about Moon Bin is compelling.  Maybe Dongmin is just like every other sad sap at his school, swooning over Bin's smile.  How normal of him.

Dongmin finds it interesting someone with whom he has never spoken can hold his attention in such a way.  Part of him also feels voyeuristic, peering into moments of this boy's life without asking.  Admiring him from afar simply because he can.  This has somehow become part of his life, recording him.  He hesitates to use the word stalker, partly because it reflects poorly on his moral character, partly because the definition doesn't quite match whatever Dongmin does.

Bin hasn't noticed Dongmin since the first time, not that Dongmin has seen, and Dongmin's camcorder seeks out Bin without much effort on Dongmin's part.  Yet another thing about which Dongmin doesn't know how to feel.

All that Dongmin knows is that he's somehow less lonely just knowing that Bin exists.  Bin seems like the kind of person who makes friends easily, and maybe in some parallel universe, Dongmin isn't fixated on his future passing and he is friends with Bin.

 

//

 

Dongmin looks at the contents of his wallet while the rest of his classmates gather their things.  The monitors for the week are chatting by the chalkboard, divvying up various tasks that need to be completed.  Most of his classmates are engaged in various sorts of chatter, volume increasing by the second ever since the teacher left the room.

He has just enough money to buy some spicy rice cakes, as long as he can control himself.  He'll have to meticulously count them out unless he wants the old man who sells them to ban him for taking more than he can afford.  Dongmin sighs, putting his notebooks into his bag as he thinks about how badly he  _wants_ to eat.  If he puts off the urge to buy spicy rice cakes for long enough, he'll have enough money to pig out when his parents bribe him to keep his grades where they are.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Dongmin picks up his camera and makes his way out of the school.  His eyes stay glued to the screen of his camcorder as he fast forwards through his footage that he recorded that day.  He nimbly weaves through the people in the halls, stepping around groups and avoiding people who are walking at a slower pace.

He decides to begin filming again once he exits the gates.  His stomach grumbles, which decides his after-school plans for him.  The snack vendor is a short walk away from the school and in the exact opposite direction of his house.

Dongmin sighs, watching the images being filmed on the camcorder's small screen rather than looking up.  It's a habit that Dongmin finds hard to break; looking at the screen is the only way to guarantee the footage will be watchable in the future.  It inadvertently prevents him from properly experiencing the world the first time around.  That fact should bother Dongmin, but his life lacks the kind of excitement that might entice him to live in the moment rather than recording it.  Students from the nearby girls' school walk into frame, whispering something to each other as they pass Dongmin.

Dongmin rounds the corner and lays eyes on the lonely snack stand.  The old man tends to his dishes, stirring the spicy rice cakes,  peering at his skewered fish cakes that soak in their broth.  The food on the grill behind him sizzles, begging for the stall owner to turn his attention back to it.

Dongmin holds his camcorder in one hand and films his approach to the stand.  After panning across all of his potential food options, he focuses on the spicy rice cakes, which make his mouth water.  Quietly, he greets the owner and picks up a toothpick with which he can fish the rice cakes out of their fiery sauce.

"What's with the camera?" A foreign voice asks, directing the question in Dongmin's direction.

He uses his camcorder to locate the source of the question and finds Moon Bin with a raised eyebrow and a fishcake half-crammed in his mouth.

Dongmin blinks, unsure of what he should say.  The question could be limited to the moment, or it could be about the way that his camera is almost one of his appendages.  Most baffling of all, the thing that interferes with his thought process the most is the fact that Moon Bin is talking to him, looking at him with a curious glint in his eye.

Dongmin swallows, trying to ignore the bundle of nerves tangling themselves in his stomach.  Dongmin can't think of an answer, not one that satisfactorily satiates Bin's brief curiosity about him.  So, he opts to say nothing at all and turns back to the spicy rice cakes calling his name.  He lulls himself into a sense of safety by deliberately thinking that Bin is trying to fill silence and has no genuine interest in Dongmin.

He stabs one with a toothpick and marks it as the first of his quota.  The rice cake bites back, and it deeply pleases Dongmin.  Soon enough he knows that he'll need water, which require some skill on his part.  It's difficult to take advantage of the free water because he'll have to do everything with one hand to make sure that he does waste memory on his camera.

Bin, shockingly enough, continues to eat fishcakes while Dongmin munches on the spicy rice cakes.  From afar, it might seem as though two friends decided to eat something after school.  He reaches his heat threshold three toothpicks in, which prompts a loud, open-mouthed exhale in an attempt the let the heat out.  He shifts to reach for a water cup, only to have one shoved into his hand by Bin, who offers a small quirk of the lips and a nod of encouragement.

Blush blooms across his face, as he shyly accepts the small paper cup from Bin.  Somehow, he never thought that Bin would actually be able to see him.  Normally, there is so much space between them that words are too soft to be heard.  Part of the blush comes from the fact that Dongmin is embarrassed, ashamed even, because the moment feels like a confrontation.  Bin might call him names; Dongmin might deserve it, but it will sting nonetheless.  The other half of the heat in his cheeks comes from the slight attraction toward Bin he feels.  Crush is the colloquial term, but Dongmin can't bring himself to use it, to cement his feelings in one trivial word.

He downs the tepid water in one big gulp and makes a move to eat another piece of spicy rice cake.

"Lee Dongmin?"

He almost chokes on his food.  His first instinct to ask how Bin knows his name, but the thought gets thrown aside quickly because their school uniforms require name plates.  The fact that Bin cares enough to read his name plate throws him off.  He looks at Bin, mouth still chewing on the rice cake.

He repeats his original question, "What's with the camera?"

Dongmin swallows roughly and presses his lips together.  The brief moment of eye contact makes his heart stutter, and once again, he fails to answer Moon Bin's question.

Dongmin thinks, he thinks long and hard about his options.  He can either try to communicate with Bin, or he can leave and pretend that his name didn't just slip past Bin's lips.

Dongmin chooses to keep up his illusion.  He's a fly on the wall and Moon Bin cannot see him, does not see him.  He sets down his camcorder and pulls out his wallet to pay for his brief snack.  The old man takes it with a gummy grin, quietly thanking Dongmin for his patronage.  Dongmin can't find his voice, so he opts for a courtesy bow before picking up his camcorder and beginning his walk home.

His heart pounds in his ears; he has to control his breath.  A million thoughts pull him different directions, but he obeys his first instinct to ignore Bin and pray that Bin doesn't care enough to press on.

Dongmin hears rapid footsteps, indicative of running, and a moment later, a person is walking beside him.  Moon Bin peeks at the screen of the camcorder, hands stuffed in his pockets as if that makes it less conspicuous.

"Hello?" Bin asks, waving a hand in front of Dongmin's face.  Bin sings his name, "Dongmin."

Curiosity gets the best of Dongmin.  Why on earth is Bin devoting this much attention to him?  To tell him to back off and stop recording him? 

He abruptly stops and Bin accidentally walks into frame before realizing the person he's following has stopped moving.  Bin whips around and sees Dongmin looking at him through the camera.

Bin offers a small wave to the camcorder and then looks at Dongmin's face, raising an eyebrow.  Dongmin clears his throat, weakly asking, "Why are you following me?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Dongmin blinks, briefly looking away from the small screen to give Bin a confused look, "Why should I answer your question?"

"Why not?" Bin counters.

Dongmin begins walking again, and Bin continues to tag along.

"Just tell what's with the camera."

Dongmin ignores him so that he can panic internally without Bin noticing.  Every moment that Bin focuses on him is a moment that Dongmin feels himself thawing out.  He might never want the attention to go away if Bin gives it to him for too long.

"Tell me."

Dongmin picks up speed, hoping to out pace Bin.

"I know you film me."

Dongmin freezes, unable to turn around and face Bin.

Bin takes advantage of Dongmin's fear and shame, and he walks around to face Dongmin again.  He smiles and touches his nose while pointing at Dongmin, "Found your buzz word.  Just tell me, what is up with the camera?"

He swallows thickly, looking at the Bin on the camcorder rather than the real live person, "Why do you want to know?"

Bin cocks his head to the side, looking Dongmin up and down, "Maybe I'm curious about you."

Dongmin starts walking again, and Bin takes backward steps to maintain the distance between them.  After a long moment thinking about how to answer, Dongmin replies with a quiet, "Does it matter why?"

Bin clicks his tongue and offers a cheeky grin, "I suppose the why isn't all that important, but I'd like to know why  _me_?"

"If I tell you, are you going to leave me alone?" Dongmin asks, unsure if that's what he really wants.  The object of his affection is looking at him, really looking at him, and it's overwhelming and he has a nagging fear that Bin will just deck him for being a creep.

Bin takes a deep breath and wobbles his head, "No."  Bin mimics holding a camera, squeezing one eye shut as he says, "I've got you in my sights now."

"Then ask me again some time."

A wide smile spreads across Bin's face, "I will."

 

//

 

For once, Dongmin eats lunch in the cafeteria.

He goes unnoticed by most of his fellow students and snags a spot at an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria.  His camcorder sits heavy in his jacket pocket; it feels odd to have a free moment where his camera isn't in his hands.

He takes his time eating his food and contemplates his Moon Bin problem.  Bin knows that Dongmin has a habit of recording him, but he doesn't seem to bothered by it.  He is much more of an enigma than Dongmin could have ever anticipated.  Maybe he should have asked more questions of his own.  He wonders if he should just quit looking at Bin, if that's even possible anymore.  Ultimately, a little corner of his heart protests; Bin is a small ray of light in his bleak world.  He can  _look_ at Bin without a camera if push comes to shove.

Dongmin finishes and places his spoon and chopsticks on the metal lunch tray.  Without much of a thought, Dongmin takes his camera out of his pocket. 

The world feels right again.  Something about looking at the world through a lens comforts him; it's an added layer of protection.  There's a back up of every moment that he has his camcorder.  He'll be able to return to any important moments in the future.

He looks at the screen, and his hand instantly points it toward Moon Bin.  The moment that he catches is Bin laughing with his mouth full, moving his hands to cover the partially masticated food.  Maybe it's less infatuation and more jealousy that he feels about Bin.  Bin is normal, well-adjusted, and popular, everything that a wallflower wants to be.  However, jealousy doesn't explain the pleasant warmth that blooms in him whenever Moon Bin smiles.

Dongmin leans back, raking his teeth over his lower lip absentmindedly.  He gets the feeling that there's a lot about Bin that he might have to unpack; that is if Bin decides to maintain an interest in the Dongmin and his camcorder.

Bin leans over and briefly makes eye contact with the camera.  Dongmin's eyes flick up to confirm that Bin intentionally looked at him.  They hold eye contact for a moment too long for it to be considered a coincidence before Bin turns his attention to his friends with some apology about spacing out for a moment.

It's at that moment that Dongmin knows.  

He will never be Moon Bin's friend.  They'll be acquaintances, maybe.  Dongmin will never be inducted into Bin's group of friends.  Bin will never tell anyone that he has spoken with Dongmin.  Dongmin holds his temporary interest for some unknown reason, and he  _knows_ that Bin will get bored once he's solved that puzzle that he perceives to be Dongmin.

Bin is unattainable, as a friend, as a someone more.  Bin won't be those for Dongmin, not matter how much he wants Bin to be. 

 

//

 

The next time Bin follows Dongmin after he leaves school, they end up at sitting across from each other, sipping on bubble tea.

The straw is never more than a few centimeters away from Bin's mouth, and most of the time, his lips brush against the straw as he speaks.

Dongmin films him.  There's no point in hiding it.  Bin has called him out on it, but he still hasn't asked Dongmin to stop.

"Is it because I'm handsome?" Bin asks after a length amount of time sitting in silence and staring at Dongmin and his camera.

"Is what because you're handsome?" Dongmin volleys back, wrapping his lips around the wide straw and gulping down the milk tea.

Bin gulps down some tea as well and chews the tapioca pearls with his mouth open, smacking his lips, "The reason you point the camera at me."

He looks up briefly from the camcorder screen with a smirk, "Isn't that a little assumptive?"

"Then why?"

Dongmin bites his lip, zooming in on Bin's face, catching every blown up pixel on each square inch of Bin's face.  He zooms back out to catch all of Bin's expectant expression.  "Maybe I'm filming a student documentary on the in-crowd, and you're the case study integral to the story arc," Dongmin suggests, despite the fact that it's a blatant lie.

Bin purses his lips in thought.  Once his thoughts have rendered, a small smile plays on his lips, "I don't believe you."

"Why's that?"

"Documentaries have testimonial footage," Bin explains, "and I don't remember sitting for an interview."

Dongmin snorts, "Maybe I haven't had the time to get the subject to sit down for an interview."

"I'm here right now," Bin says, leaning back in his chair and raising his arms openly to invite questions.

"Okay, what is your name?"

"Moon Bin."

Dongmin zooms in on Bin's face again, not too close this time.  This time, he catches Bin's beauty as a whole, not inch by inch.  He takes a deep breath before speaking, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Where do you live?"

"The Republic of Korea."

He thinks for a moment before asking the next question.  This one flirts with the idea of forging a relationship in which Bin and Dongmin know each other.  "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Bin leans forward, offering a broad smile and a sparkle in his eyes, "Famous."

"Generically famous?  No specific profession?  You just aspire to be known?"  He inquires in an attempt to peel back the layers of mystery surrounding Bin.  How could someone so open inspire so many questions?

"Follow me, cameraman," Bin murmurs, getting out of his seat and motioning his hand to encourage Dongmin to follow.

Dongmin does as he is asked and swipes his drink off the table to tag along to wherever Moon Bin is going.  Bin begins heading in the direction of Dongmin's house, coincidentally.  He turns around abruptly, forcing Dongmin to stop.

He takes another gulp of his bubble tea before beginning a monologue of sorts, as he walks backward,  "I want to be famous when I grow up.  I want to be passionate enough about something that everyone associates it with me.  If I become an actor or singer or an entertainer of any sort, I'll sit down at interviews and say things like: Writer Kim is brilliant or it's an honor to work with Director Lee.  The staff treats me great.  My fellow actors and entertainers have become like family through this project." Bin closes his eyes with a serene smile on his face.  Dongmin gets caught up in how beautiful he is, a bright pop of color against a gray sky.

Bin opens his eyes and shatters the illusion.

He snatches the camera out of Dongmin's hand with a giggle, "Your turn to be interviewed."

Bin walks backward and adjusts the viewing screen to his liking, "What is your name, sir?"

Dongmin gulps.  This is uncomfortable.  It has been forever since his image has been recorded with his camcorder.  His protection from the world around him has been stripped of him.  He averts his eyes and quietly says, "Lee Dongmin."

"How old are you, Dongmin?" Bin asks, eyes glued to Dongmin rather than making sure that the image of Dongmin is properly being captured.  Dongmin dully thinks that Bin doesn't have it in him to be a cameraman.

"Seventeen."

Bin glances behind him to make sure the path is clear before proceeding with his next question. "Where does the seventeen year old named Lee Dongmin live?"

Dongmin looks at the camera rather than Bin.  As if focusing on the space inches away from Bin's face will make it easier to think clearly.  "The Republic of Korea."

"And what do you want to be when you're all grown up?"

"Alive."

Bin stops, dropping the camera to his side with a look of disbelief on his face.  He almost gets whatever comment sits on his tongue out, but the sky opens up and begins pouring rain.  Bin looks up in shock, raising his hands to ask the sky why.

Dongmin calmly sets his half empty cup of bubble tea on the sidewalk and grabs Bin's wrist.  He proceeds to pull Bin along, using his free arm to shield his eyes from the rain.   He runs home with little resistance from his passenger.  At some point along the way, Bin's tea slips out of his hand, and Dongmin knows this because when they arrive at his front door, sopping wet, the plastic cup is nowhere in sight.

He fishes his keys out of his pocket and lets Bin into his home.  He lingers in the foyer and watches Bin run his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back.  For a moment, Dongmin forgets what he should do.  He has never had a guest over, and functioning with Bin so close to him is difficult.  He makes several awkward false-starts before he finally mumbles, "I'll get towels."

Bin shadows him after shedding the jacket of his uniform with a moist thud.  Dongmin walks into his room and opens his well organized closet, grabbing clean towels off of the upper shelf.

He turns around to find Bin right behind him. Their chests stand inches apart.  Dongmin has never actually been this close to Bin, not even with his camcorder between them.

Bin's brow furrows with a worried guilt, "I don't know if your camera is okay."

Dongmin silently trades a towel for his camcorder.  He drapes a towel over his head and takes a seat at his desk with an awkward squeak as his wet clothes rub against the pleather chair.  He holds down the power button for several seconds, and the screen on the camcorder blinks back to life.  Bin's worry is for naught.

Dongmin swivels around in his chair, hitting record to make sure that the camcorder is entirely functional.  He begins to assure Bin, "It's--"

His words sink back onto his tongue because nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Moon Bin without a shirt on.  He hadn't even heard the ruffling of fabric that would indicate the shedding of clothes.  His eyes drink in the softly defined muscles and lean limbs; his brain forgets to command his lungs to take in oxygen.

Bin looks at him and tilts his head to the side.  He softly chides, "You shouldn't stay in your wet clothes.  You'll catch a cold."

Bin moves forward and begins unbuttoning Dongmin's shirt for him.  Dongmin's eyes stay fixed on the camcorder viewer, frozen in fear of doing something wrong.  He doesn't even know what quantifies as a wrong movement in this situation.  Does he want Bin to give him space or get even closer?

Bin glances up, and an unfamiliar expression of sadness washes over Bin's face. "You never look at me," he states quietly.

"Yes, I do," Dongmin tries to protest with a weak, quivering voice.

Bin shakes his head, "No, you look at your camera, which has me on it."

"So?"

"If you look at me, actually look at me, what are you afraid is going to happen?" He asks.  Dongmin's guilty silence is easy to figure out.  

Bin licks his lips, "Are you going to fall for me?"

He remains silent, staring at the image of Bin on his screen. Bin gently pries Dongmin's camcorder out of his hands and places it on Dongmin's desk, aiming it at the window.

Dongmin feels naked and vulnerable.

"What are you going to do now?" Bin whispers, leaning down and looking straight into Dongmin's eyes.  Dongmin couldn't look away if he tried.  He is simply caught up in how beautiful Bin's eyes are.  He can barely pull a coherent thought together; Bin is too close and too far at the same time.  Words won't come, so he just shakes his head and tries not the look at Bin's mouth.

Bin bites his lips, "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

The truth slips past Dongmin's lips before he can even think about the possible repercussions of saying it, "Yes."

Bin grabs Dongmin's wrists and pulls him out of his chair.  "Do you like me?" He asks, taking step forward and leaving virtually no space between their bodies.

Dongmin blinks.  He can hear his heart in his ears; Bin probably can too.  He swallows thickly before squeaking out the quietest, "Yes."

Lips press against his own, and his eyes flutter to a close without his permission.

Bin is warm and soft.  Dongmin's hands move to grip something to keep him grounded in reality.   His fingers dig into the Bin's exposed hips, and he briefly thinks that this might be his cause of death.  Kissing Bin makes it even more difficult to function, physically and mentally, and the emotions that he has barely been keeping at bay explode into a colorful and confusing kaleidoscope.  It's a moment that will burn into his brain, stay there forever, and be there as the golden standard to which he will compare every other experience.  It will leave him in a cold, monochrome world when it ends.

Everything around him overwhelms him, so much so that he barely notices when Bin pushes his shirt off.

 

 

 

 "Why do you record everything?" Bin asks the moment that the camcorder returns to Dongmin's hands.

Bin sits cross-legged on Dongmin's bed in a pair of Dongmin's pajamas.  Their uniforms are in the dryer on the setting that is friendly to dry-clean only clothes.  Dongmin aims his camcorder at Bin's sloppy appearance.  Dongmin still finds him exquisitely beautiful.  Thoughts come so easily now, and all of them praise every inch of Bin, every hair, and every freckle.

He knows that he doesn't need to tell Bin.  He can keep this part of him a secret, but considering how much he's already shared with Bin, he might as well admit it.  "I'm coping with my eventual death.  I want to leave something behind when I die, a compilation of all the things that I like and find important in the hopes that it will offer insight into my life when I'm six feet under."

Bin sits in concerned silence for several moments.  Finally, his lips quirk into a smile, "I'm something you like and find important?"

Dongmin grins, looking at Bin rather than his image on the camera.

Bin blushes, looking at the floor, "That's some information to know."

"Didn't you already know?"

Bin looks back up at Dongmin, "Verbal confirmation is always appreciated."  He glances at the clock and frowns, "I need to go home."

 

//

 

The next day, Bin passes Dongmin in the hallway and offers a secret smile.

That's the last time that Dongmin sees Moon Bin.

Scuttlebutt around the school is that Bin's father got promoted, and the entire Moon family was packaged up and express shipped off to Seoul.

It leaves Dongmin feeling empty and lost.  He doesn't actually know how to contact Bin.  That's the problem with secrets, in an effort to keep them hidden no one tries to keep a point of contact.  His hope that he could move past being a secret and sliding into that light of Bin's arms disappears.

Dongmin is lonely again.  There's nothing interesting to film anymore.

He edits his recordings.  He edits and edits and creates a little homage to his brief time being with Moon Bin.  It does nothing, mulching over every moment that Moon Bin was in frame.  Bin doesn't come back to see what he's doing.  He's just sad all by himself.

Dongmin stops thinking about death so much.  Regret becomes his temporary fixation.  If only,  _if only_ , he had done this instead of that, he might have a real piece of Bin to hold onto.

Bin becomes the new defining event of Dongmin's life.  Love and loss go hand in hand when impacting Dongmin, so it seems.

He also realizes it too late, that he's in love with Bin.  The feelings are there, like they always were, but Dongmin can name them now.  He just can't say them; there's no one to say them to.

 

//

 

Dongmin checks his watch, and a small frown forms on his lips.  He continues his attempt to flag down a cab, one foot on the street and a hand in the air.  He's going to be late, but if he's not too late, he won't get chewed out.  Besides Jinwoo always ends up being the latest, so he usually bears the brunt of the scolding.

A cab finally slows in front of him, and Dongmin boards it in a hurry, spitting out the address and double checking to make sure that the coffee is unscathed.  Honestly, it's a bit ridiculous to ask an editor to grab coffee.  That's what production and editing assistants are for, but a few big shot actors are meeting with the principal editor, and for some reason, the task gets relegated to Dongmin.

The cab stops at a light, and Dongmin gets a look out of the window.

A giant advertisement hangs off of the face of a building.  The product is some face cream that is relatively popular, not that Dongmin has ever used it.  Dongmin recognizes the smiling face holding up the product, Moon Bin.

Like he does every time that he runs into Bin's image in the city, Dongmin takes out his phone and snaps a photo before the traffic light turns to green.  

Bin grew up and became what he wanted to be: famous. 

And Dongmin, well, Dongmin is alive.

He supposes he got what he wanted too.

But not really.

He just wanted to be with Bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, my children, **i need feedback. comments, kudos, anything.**  
>  (every time that moon bin is involved, there are so many words????)  
> *long groan* why binwoo why. *dying whale noises* i was so happy with sanwoo.


	2. a happier ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you love me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IF EVERYONE COULD READ MY NOTE PLEASE.**  
>  don't hate me.  
> i probably should have left it alone, and i'm afraid that everyone is going to walk back their kind words. however, a few people asked for a different ending and since i already had something planned, i decided that some people might appreciate it. what i don't want is someone who read the first part, which is its own complete thing, to read this when they liked it just the way it was.  
> i'm about to have a real moment on you guys because the idea of publishing something only to have people say that i shouldn't have touched it really sucks. i have feelings and i read every single comment, so just **comment conscientiously if you want to at all.**  
>   
> 
> (adult!eunwoo doesn't use his camera nearly as much)

As Dongmin hustles into his office building, he tries not to jostle any of the drinks in his little caddy.  He already has his excuse scripted and runs through it in his head.  He plans on blaming the coffee; the message with the drink order specifically asked for drinks from the cafe around the corner from his house, and they take their sweet time making every order.  Some of the blame also lies at the time when he received the message: a hair away from the time when Dongmin leaves his apartment.

Dongmin impatiently presses the elevator's call button, taking a few steps back to scan the floor indicators on each elevator across the bay.  He checks his watch once more out of habit.

He hates standing still.  It gives him time to think, and if Dongmin thinks for too long, he circles back to Moon Bin.  Case and point: Dongmin finds himself annoyed that this coffee run has made him late.  The coffee and one thing of bubble tea (if he's being accurate) are for actors.  Moon Bin is an actor.  Dongmin misses Moon Bin.  It's a vicious cycle that repeats on end.

An elevator arrives at long last, and Dongmin quickly boards it and holds down the button for his floor.

When the elevator doors open again, he's greeted by the sight of Jinwoo chomping on his thumbnail, gaze fixated on a random spot on the carpet.  That does not bode well.

Dongmin reaches out to touch Jinwoo's shoulder, which jolts Jinwoo from his soulless statue state.  "What's wrong?"

It takes a moment Jinwoo to process the question, and all the tension purges from his face and posture. A bright smile blooms on his face, and he claps a hand on Dongmin's shoulder, "Oh, you're finally here."

"To where am I delivering these drinks?" Dongmin asks scrunching his nose.

"They're in Conference 2," Jinwoo says, gesturing down the hallway.  "Dongmin, guess who they are."

"I don't..." Dongmin shakes his head.  He has only ever paid attention to one celebrity.

"Kim Myungjun!" Jinwoo almost shrieks, covering his face in delight.  He has heard that name from Jinwoo many times before.

Dongmin smiles softly and offers, "Do you want to deliver the coffee then?  Get some one on one time with your idol?"

Jinwoo presses a hand against his heart, "Can-can I?"

He holds the coffee out to Jinwoo and offers a genuine smile, "If it makes you happy."

Jinwoo throws his arms around Dongmin's neck in a loose hug before gently taking the drink caddy out of his hands. Jinwoo practically skips down the hallway to the second conference room, and Dongmin shakes his head with a fond smile.  Jinwoo's excitement over being in the same building as Kim Myungjun kept him so preoccupied that he failed to tell Dongmin the other people in meeting with their supervisor; Dongmin wishes that he could be like that.

He makes his way to his office and settles down into his workspace.  He cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms before he continues editing the footage he was working on the day before.  He slides on a pair of headphones, as he begins splicing footage from multiple camera angles.  The drama for which he is editing is set to air its last episode in two weeks or so; that must be why the principal editor is meeting with  top stars.  A new project is always on the horizon,  _always._

Just as Dongmin starts to get into the zone, he hears a knock.  He stops the current footage on his computer screen and turns around in his chair.

Moon Bin.

Dongmin blinks.  He doesn't believe it.  Bin looks the same, but that might just be because Dongmin sees his image everywhere.  He looks more mature, maybe, cheek bones more prominent because his baby fat has been left in the past.  His hair has been brushed out of his face.  Bin's hair isn't long enough for Dongmin to truly call it styled.

Bin seems frozen as well, lips parted in subdued surprise.  It takes him a moment to regain what little composure that he has lost.  His lips quirk into a charming smile, "Jinwoo, uh, Mr. Park Jinwoo, um... there's a number on the cup, and I don't think that it was intended to land in my hands."

Dongmin almost doesn't hear what Bin says; the words are just a vessel for the sound of Bin's voice.  It's just a smooth, light, and rich as he remembers.  Like the past is echoing his ears.   It's different than it comes off as in videos; the real live Bin has an extra layer of depth in his voice. 

Dongmin's silence, awe really, is interpreted differently by Bin.  He elaborates, "Did you want the number?"  Bin moves his hand and brings the cup into view, shaking it as if to prove that the cup exists.

"There's still bubble tea in there," Dongmin points out.  He wants to kick himself; he hasn't seen Bin in how long, and the first words that fall out of his mouth are those? 

Bin politely grimaces, "I was thinking that you would just write it on a sticky note."

Dongmin swallows thickly, "I don't want the number."

The actor smiles and nods, "Alright, sorry to bother you."

Like a puff of smoke, Bin appears and vanishes from Dongmin's life once more.  The colors, which briefly returned to full brightness, have dimmed again.  To be honest, Dongmin doubts that the Moon Bin he just saw is even real.  How could he be?

He sits numbly in his seat.  Is that all Bin had to say to him?  Dongmin has so much,  _so much_ that he wants to tell Bin and needs to tell Bin.  He tries to come up with a reason that Bin didn't even acknowledge that they know each other.  Perhaps Bin didn't recognize him, but Dongmin knows that's a lie.  Even if it were true, that might break Dongmin's heart even more. 

He continues to work, putting off figuring out the encounter for when he has time.

 

//

 

Dongmin stares at the ceiling of his bedroom.

The hands of the clock on the wall tick away with small, soft clicks.

A small piece of his soul wonders if he'll ever see Bin again.  It's the part of him that bitterly holds onto his regrets and constantly pushes them to the surface as if to remind Dongmin that he wastes chances every time the heavens give him one. 

Bin will perpetually be the one who got away.

Or is Dongmin the one who fails to chase him?

Dongmin sits up, rubbing his face.  He won't get any sleep, not with Bin floating in and out of his mind.

Dongmin finds himself watching the footage that he has edited for the last few years.  His desktop lists it as _Moon Bin Saw Me_ , a name that seems to encapsulate the absurdity of Dongmin's first love.

He has spent hours wondering about Bin.  He doesn't mean the Bin that sits for interviews and films cute behind the scenes videos for the public.  He needs to about how happy he is behind the eternally smiling advertisement.  How much has Bin changed since they parted ways?  How does Bin feel when he thinks about Dongmin?

His eyes lose focus on the video as he thinks about its subject.  He mouths every word that reaches his ears because he has watched and fiddled with the file so many times.  He adds in the recent photo that he took on his phone.

Maybe he and Bin are meant to ships in the night.  Or perhaps, they're two lines that intersect once and head in different directions for the rest of their existence.  No, it's closer to the Titanic and the iceberg; they meet once and one drowns while the other continues on without pause.  Dongmin is the Titanic, and the story doesn't go very well for him.

Dongmin hugs his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knees, trying to keep his head above water.

_"I'm something that you like and find important?  That's some information to know."_

 

//

 

There's a knock on the door, and Jinwoo pokes his head in, "I'm going home.  You're going to be the last the person in the office if you stay."

"I'm in a zone," Dongmin dismisses Jinwoo's concerns with a wave of his free hand.

"The lights shut off at midnight.  Try not to be here when that happens."

He hums, continuing to ignore Jinwoo.

"Goodnight.  Get some sleep on the breakroom couch if you feel tired."

"Night!" He shouts over his shoulder.

Dongmin gets lost in editing until someone sets a cup of coffee on his desk.  He looks at it and turns, "Jinwoo--"  He stops mid-thought when he sees Moon Bin staring at him with his lips pressed into a tight line.

Dongmin thinks he's hallucinating.  It must be incredibly late to have a visual, auditory, and olfactory hallucination.  His thoughts escape through his mouth, "I must be going crazy."

Bin drags one of the spare chairs usually reserved for small creative meetings and pulls it up to sit next to Dongmin.  He presses the back of his hand against Dongmin's forehead with a look of worry flickering across his face.  He withdraws his hand and says, "You're a tad warm.  I think you should take a nap."

"Why are you here?" Dongmin asks, reaching out to poke Bin's cheek to confirm that he might be real.  The skin of his cheek gives way to the pressure of Dongmin's finger.  Bin is a solid human being.

"Because I worry about you, and for the first time in a long time, I can do something about it."

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Dongmin asks, letting sleep ebb at his consciousness.

Bin nods with a soft smile, "Come."  He takes Dongmin's hand and leads him to the break room.  Dongmin can't find it within him to resist being led.   Bin _feels_ real, but Dongmin isn't entirely positive.  Bin makes him lie down on the couch.  Bin takes a seat, crossing his legs and positioning himself so that they are face to face.

Dongmin drifts into the safe harbor of sleep, hoping that when he awakens, he'll be able to tell if Bin is real or simply an illusion created by a brain that truly misses him.

 

 

When he wakes up, there is a headful of hair in his face.  It smells like honey and milk.  Dongmin blinks the sleep out of his eyes and pulls back to look at the face of the person whose hair is in his face.  Bin rests his face on the back of his hand; it makes his cheek look puffier than it actually is. 

"Bin?" He asks, dry throat cracking through the only syllable he utters out.

Bin bolts up, eyes popping wide open, "I didn't fall asleep."  His eyes water, prompting him to clumsily brush the stray tears away with the tips of his fingers.

"Moon Bin." Dongmin breathes, "You're real."

"Of course, I'm real. What time is it?"  He looks around for a clock on the wall.

Dongmin looks at his watch, "It's almost 7:00AM; do you want to get breakfast?"

Bin looks at him and smiles, "Yeah, I'd like that."

That's how they end up at a restaurant a block over from Dongmin's office eating omelets.  Bin shoves spoon after spoon into his mouth without fully swallowing after each bite.  Dongmin notes that he even eats the same.

Across from him, Bin seems to notice that Dongmin isn't cramming his face full of food.  He finally takes a break from eating to chew his food and swallows, "What?"

"We haven't seen each other in years, and you're eating as if we do this on a regular basis."

Bin straightens out his back and dabs his mouth a napkin.  He shifts in discomfort, "Then how am I supposed to eat?"

"We're supposed to catch up like we're old friends.  Laugh over the fun times, take a moment to observe the sad times, down a shot for every memory recounted,"  Dongmin has a bitter taste in his mouth.  He thinks he might be angry.  Their reunion has fallen short of his imagination; Bin is  _supposed_ to hug him or apologize for leaving without saying anything.  Bin  _should_ tell him that it was love for him as well and say that not a single day passed without thinking about him.  Moon Bin could say anything to acknowledge that he left Dongmin in a black and white world after showing him every hue of every color.  The most that Dongmin has gotten out of him is a mild look of surprise, like he never thought to imagine their paths crossing again.  Dongmin  _knows_ that he's angry.

A look of guilt flashes across Bin's face, and he looks down so that he can pick at his cuticles.  He quietly says, "Seven in the morning is too early for alcohol."

The newfound anger seeps into Dongmin's voice, "You can just say it."

Bin raises an eyebrow.

"We were never friends, barely even acquaintances.  There are no times, good or bad, to lament over."  Dongmin takes out his wallet and slaps down enough bills to cover the bill.  Bin flinches and Dongmin stands up, "Goodbye, Moon Bin."

By the time that Dongmin is back to the office, his anger has waned into despair.  He doesn't think Bin ever loved him at all.  His first assertion will always be right: Moon Bin will never be his in any way, shape, or form.

 

//

 

Dongmin sits in the middle of his living room, pointing his camcorder at an empty couch.  The funny thing is that he had to rummage through his closet for it when it used to be glued to his hand. 

He feels empty, emptier than the usual echo chamber that exists inside of his ribs.  Something else cleared out, and Dongmin hasn't quite figured what he has lost.  When he was younger, the thought of being angry with Bin was unimaginable.  Now that time and space have divorced his idealized Bin from the real one, the foundation of his youth has cracks running through it.  This entire time, he has hoped that if he should ever meet Bin again that they would run off into the sunset with tightly held hands.  Now that Bin is real again, pinchable and breathing, his loneliness  promises to stay forever.  The one thing that he needed to be real was the reciprocation of feelings, and it seems that, once again, Dongmin is alone in his feelings.

He feels a tear crawl down his cheek, dripping off his chin and onto his leg.

He hears a knock on the door and forces himself onto his feet to answer it.  It's probably Minhyuk trying to pilfer his pantry again.  He glances in the mirror to make sure it isn't obvious that he was crying.  He holds his camera steady as he opens the door, prepared to catch Minhyuk mid-knock.

It is not Minhyuk.

Of all the people in the universe, Moon Bin stands there with a finger curled out of his fist.  His eyes immediately gravitate to the familiar camera.

Bin smiles softly, "You still have that?"

Dongmin remains stiff.  His emotions have a tug-of-war over how to react to Moon Bin being at his front door.  All that he can manage to say is, "How do you know where I live?"

Bin looks at his feet and mumbles, "Myungjun asked Jinwoo because I asked him if he could.  If you're wondering, I told Myungjun to tell him that I had something that I urgently needed to return to you.  You don't need to be mad at Jinwoo."  He licks his lips and looks Dongmin dead in the eyes, "May I come in please?"

Dongmin pulls the door wide open.  What does he have to lose by hearing whatever Bin has to say?

It takes a few minutes, but Dongmin sets both of them up with cups of tea.  Bin ends up playing with his camera while he waits.  He ultimately slides it back when Dongmin takes his seat.

"Thank you," he mumbles quietly.

Dongmin picks his camcorder up and points it at Bin.  It feels like a return to form, using his camera to record Bin.

"What do you want to tell me?" Dongmin asks the moment that Bin's lips his the rim of his teacup.

Bin chokes on his drink and coughs quietly before asking, "Pardon?"

"There must be something you need to tell me if you went through the hassle of getting my address from Park Jinwoo," he elaborates.  "So, I suggest you cut to the chase."

Bin pushes his tea away and chews his lower lip.  He seems to be trying to find a way to articulate his thoughts.  He finally nods, a look of determination forming on his face.  He begins, "The best and worst days of my life happened in the same week.  In school, I was always fairly popular, so it was kind of like I had a bunch of casual friends.  I didn't really have a best friend that was always over at my house and borrowing my stuff for an indefinite period of time.  It was...lonely."

He licks his lips and takes another sip of tea.  He looks at his cup and smiles softly, "And then I met you."  His brow furrows and he tilts his head as a happy confusion flickers across his face.  "I mean, you know, you were that kid that people didn't talk about because you made them uncomfortable.  Then, one day, I saw you pointing your camera at me, and I wanted to know what you saw when you looked at me."

He blinks rapidly and frowns.  His lips make several false starts as he tries to string words together.  Dongmin watches and feels it as the part of him that has always been in love with Bin tries to stoke the flames of hope his empty chest.

Bin starts again, "That day, after the rain, I think it's my favorite moment that I've ever lived.  You looked at me, and it was like I mattered."  Bin sniffles and swallows again, "It felt like I could talk about my favorite kind of dirt and those would be the most important words that had ever been spoken.  To this day, I don't think anyone has ever wanted to know me the way that you did."

Bin takes a deep, shaky breath, "And I never wanted to share anything with anyone so badly before.  Then my dad moved us to Seoul without so much as a moment's notice, and I didn't have time to tell you.  Silly me, I thought I had time to tell you everything."

Dongmin can feel his emotions boiling over; a tear is a blink away from slipping out of the corner of his eye. 

"Um," Bin clears his throat and closes his eyes, "I was scouted on the street just after my seventeenth birthday, and I decided that if I became famous then you would be alive and you could find me.  I actually had nightmares about it.  The scariest thing you ever told me was that you wanted to be alive."

Bin pauses for a minute.  He looks at Dongmin's expression with something akin to worry.  He offers a smile and says, "And then I found you.  You were sitting there, and I didn't know what to do.  I mean, what  _do_ you do when the universe finally delivers on its end of the bargain?"

Dongmin sets the camera down and covers his face.  His heart is going to die from the whiplash that it's experiencing.  If he understands what Bin is telling him, then he doesn't have to wonder anymore.  Hope has a rightful place in his life for the first time in a long time.

He takes a deep breath and sets his hand back on the table.  He threads his fingers together and leans forward, "What are you trying to tell me?"  He wants clarity, first and foremost.

Bin processes the question.  He looks down at Dongmin's hands then back up at his face.  He whispers, "I was in love with you, and although I doubt it matters anymore, I'm fairly sure that I still am."  Bin flicks his tongue across his lips to wet them again.  "I just thought that I should tell you that you were wrong at breakfast the other day; I considered us to be something far stronger than 'barely acquaintances'."

"May I ask you a question?" Dongmin quietly murmurs.

Bin nods.

"What did you  _want_ to do when you first saw me that day?"

He thinks before replying to Dongmin's question. "Cry.  Kiss you.  Hug you.  Not necessarily in that order."  His brow furrows and he grimaces, "I'm a good actor.  It's a blessing and a curse really."

Dongmin stands up and walks into his bedroom without saying anything.  He even leaves his camera behind.  He lies down on his bed and thinks.  He won't deny that part of him is absolutely shining.  Something about knowing that Bin loves him has unleashed millions of butterflies back into their colorful, flower-filled world.  The weight on his chest has been lifted, and the cracks in the clay of his soul have been smoothed over by Bin's delicate fingers.

He doesn't know what to do about it.  Bin has a public image and reputation and thousands of fans who care about what he does with his life.  Reality will always be there, putting a roadblock in the middle of Dongmin's path to happiness.

Bin walks in and lies next to Dongmin, "I wanted to ask you a question before I leave."

"Okay."

"Did you love me?" Bin whispers with a small crack in his voice.

Dongmin turns his head to look at Bin, "Then.  Now.  I don't think I've ever considered trying to love anyone but you."

"Do I have to leave?"

"It depends on where you see this going," Dongmin whispers. 

"To be completely honest, I have the strong desire to hold onto you and never let go ever again," Bin replies.  "What should I do?"

Dongmin closes his eyes, taking a calming breath, "If you stay, I'm not going to let you go.  Choose whatever you can handle."

Bin presses himself against Dongmin's side, grabbing his hand with a gentle squeeze.  He rests his head against Dongmin's shoulder and sighs contentedly. "What now?"

"I don't know."

 

//

 

Dongmin presses a tissue to the corner of his eye.  Blood gurgles in Bin's mouth, well, the character that Bin is playing on the drama that he is currently watching.  He sniffles and hiccups out a quiet sob.

"You know, the fake blood is super sweet," Bin nudges Dongmin's ribs.  "Corn syrup."

He turns to Bin and hits his chest.

"Ow," Bin whines with a pout.

"Are you serious?  You just died for her."  He chokes up, "I mean, you sacrificed your revenge for the daughter of the man who killed your parents because you loved her.  Why would you bring that up right now?  It could've waited until the credits."

"But I'm not in the rest of the episode.   Well aside from when they show my picture at the funeral..." Bin trails off.

Dongmin exclaims, "Moon Bin!  I love you, but I'm not watching this drama just because you're in it.  Stop spoiling it."

"There are like two minutes left."

Dongmin glares at Bin.

Bin sits back, crossing his arms with a frown, "Will you pay attention to me in two minutes then?"

"Will you please be quiet and let me finish watching?"

Bin lies on his side and puts his head in Dongmin's lap.  "I need attention."

"You're famous.  Go outside if you want attention," Dongmin says flippantly.

"I only want yours."

Dongmin bends over and presses a chaste kiss on Bin's lips, "Let that hold you over for two whole minutes."

"That buys you five seconds at most."

Dongmin grins with a soft snort, "You just want to kiss."

"Can we?"

"In two minutes."

Bin lets out a wail of despair.  Dongmin slaps his hand over Bin's mouth.  "Shush, or I'll stop telling you that I love you."

"I love you!" Bin shouts, only to have the sound muffled by Dongmin's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ten_ssi told me to follow my heart, so i did.
> 
> if you were wondering, there are like seven points where i considered stopping but decided not to. however, i went for the full-on happy ending. but i always planned for this. so if you could drop a comment, donate your kudos, or bookmark it, i'd appreciate it.
> 
> [ my tumblr](https://yehetno.tumblr.com) where i actually answer questions and distribute secrets.


End file.
